When her belongings had been put back in the house, she walked up to the mover. “I want the name of your supervisor.”
He handed her a card and her house key.
She studied the new key. “Where did you get this?”
“Under the mat, just like you said.”
“I don’t leave keys under the mat. Ever!”
He sighed, not sure how to handle her. “Lady, it’s what I was told.”
“Sure. Thanks.” She watched as he and his coworker got in the truck and drove off.
Leah turned to her neighbor and tried to smile. “Julia, thank you for calling. I don’t know what I would have done if I came home and everything was gone.”
Julia glanced from Leah to Alex. “Sure, Leah. Glad to help.”
Leah watched her walk away, so tempted to call out and say, “I didn’t do this! I’m not crazy!”
But she kept her silence, aware that when doubt had been sewn into another’s mind, shouting only reinforced it. She moved into her house to survey the damage. Most of the furniture was in place, but her pictures had been removed from the walls and wrapped in brown paper. Her kitchen had been stripped and packed away in the boxes that now stood in the center of the room. It would take her hours to unpack.
The front door closed softly behind her. She turned to see Alex surveying the house.
“I wasn’t moving,” she said.
“I know.”
God, how she wanted to believe it was a mistake. She wanted to ferret out a reason that would offer any explanation other than the actual one. Philip. “He’s playing with me.”
“Why would he bother with this kind of game?”
“Because he knows it will ruin my day. He’ll be all I think about. He had a knack for messing up my days with just a phone call or the click of a mouse.”
He drew in a breath. “Have you seen any sign of him?”
Hands on hips, she thumbed her index finger. “None. But that’s part of his thing. He never shows his face.”
He tugged his cuffs down over his thick wrists. “Okay.”
“He was always so good at messing with me. He could make me feel like I was going insane.” She raised fists to her temples and turned. “When I left him, he was furious. He stalked me for months.”
“Tell me what happened the night he stabbed you.”
The hard edge had softened. “You’ve read the reports.”
“You tell me.”
The story had been bottled up for years; she’d shared only bits and pieces with a very few people. “He broke into my apartment. When I woke up, he was standing in the corner of my room. I called nine-one-one, but we both knew I’d be dead before the cops arrived.” She shoved out a sigh, as if some poison had been trapped in her lungs. “After the first plunge of the knife, adrenaline exploded in me. I forgot about the pain. I assumed he would kill me, but I refused to go easy.”
A weight lifted from her shoulders. Alex had dug into her past without asking, but as they stood there together, she sensed some of her burden had shifted to his shoulders. She liked Alex. Appreciated his intelligence. But she couldn’t say whether she fully trusted him. She nearly laughed. He was here, listening, and beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Anything else happen since we spoke?”
“Someone abandoned a dog at the clinic.”
“That happens, doesn’t it?”
“This would be the kind of thing Philip would do. He’d give me something he knew I’d care about and then take it away so I’d suffer.”
Alex stared at Leah’s flushed face and the unshed tears that glistened. She glanced at her hands twisting her thumb and index finger over an invisible wedding ring. “I was raised in a good home. I’m smart. I should’ve figured out this guy was trouble. But I missed all the warning signs.”
“How old were you when you met him?”
“Twenty-two.”
“You were a kid.”
“I should have known better.” She wrapped her arms around her chest.
“You know better now.”
She stared into his stoic gaze, feeling a connection. “You’re not exactly the most open person. You keep secrets. You can be cold. And yet I’ve got a thing for you. What does that say about me?”
“You have good taste.”
The deadpan answer coaxed a laugh. “Right. Or I’m just insane.”
“You’re one of the sanest people I know, Leah.”
His words tugged at her heart as if it were a kite and he the flyer. “I’ve got to get back to work. I have patients this afternoon.”
“I’ll check around here and call you.”
“How’re you going to find him? He’s been a step ahead of us.”
“What was the name of the florist that sent you the flowers?”
“It was Nathan’s on Broadway. I called them, but they couldn’t tell me much.”
“They’ll talk to me.”
Alex was en route to Nathan’s when he got a call from Deke. “What do you have?”
“I’ve been going through Deidre’s financials, just looking to see if anything popped.”
“And?”
“Two listening devices were charged to her credit card. The make and model match the one we found in her town house the day she was murdered.”
“The exact same model?”
“Yeah. Exact. What we found, she most likely put there.”
“So why would she bug her own place?” Alex turned onto Fourth and found street parking. He shut off the engine but didn’t move.
“She was in a tough divorce. Maybe she wanted to get something on Radcliff.”
“Maybe.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.
“If she planted the device, that means the receiver has to be close to her house.”
“Within a mile.”
“A search of the place revealed nothing that would have recorded conversations.”
“She just moved to that place.”
“Run down where she used to live and search it. And go over her car carefully. Then get back to me.”
“Will do.”
Alex got out of the car, bracing against the wind that whipped along the buildings, which acted as a wind tunnel. He walked the half block to Broadway and turned right. Fifteen paces later he was in Nathan’s.
A tall slim man in his midforties glanced up from an arrangement of red roses. “Can I help you?”
Alex pulled his badge from his breast pocket. “Had a question about an order placed here a few days ago.”
The man raised a brow and laid down the rose he’d been trimming. “I’ll help if I can.”
“It was an order of irises, sent to a Leah Carson.”
“Name doesn’t ring a bell, but let me have a look.” He shifted a few feet to the right to his computer. A few taps of the keys and he was nodding. “We had one order for her. Happy Anniversary.”
“That’s right. Who sent them?”
“The buyer’s name was Brian Lawrence.”
“Did he give an address or phone number?”
“Phone number.” The clerk rattled off the number. “I think I got a call from Ms. Carson asking about the flowers.”
Alex jotted down the number. “Do you have a credit card number?”
“Sure.” He glanced at the computer and shook his head. “He paid cash. Did Ms. Carson call you?”
“I’ve spoken to her. The flowers weren’t welcome.”
The florist frowned. “I saw the arrangement myself. It was stunning.”
“They were sent by a man who we believe is stalking her.”
“Oh. I had no idea.”
“Do you have security cameras?”
“No. But the bar next door does. That camera might have picked him up.”
“Thanks.”
Alex left his business card with the florist and moved next door to the bar. This early in the evening the place was empty, except for a few patrons who sat at the bar. A tall, muscled man wore a black T-shirt. The guy took one look at Alex and frowned. “Cop.”
Alex pulled out his badge. “TBI. I’m looking for security footage.”
“From when?” No shock. No surprise. He knew the drill.